Category Archives: Kindness

The Strong and the Weak: Lessons in Resilience from the Oromo Liberation Struggle

In the crucible of resistance, the difference between victory and defeat lies not in the strength of the enemy, but in the resolve of the fighter


The struggle for liberation is a crucible that tests the very soul of a people. It separates the determined from the disillusioned, the resilient from the defeated. In the long and arduous journey of the Oromo people toward freedom, two archetypes have emerged—the strong fighter and the weak fighter. Their stories offer profound lessons not just for the Oromo liberation movement, but for every struggle for justice and self-determination across the globe.


The Weak Fighter: A Study in Self-Destruction

When the pressures of struggle mount, when the enemy seems overwhelming, and when the path forward appears blocked, a certain type of fighter emerges—one who, in their inability to challenge the external enemy, turns their frustration inward.

“Qabsaa’ota dadhaboo yeroo diinaa fi caasaa diinaa dhiibuu dadhaban kan ofii ijaaranii keessa darban of jalatti diiguu jalqabu.”

The weak fighter, unable to strike the enemy or dismantle their structures, begins to destroy themselves. Frustration gives way to disillusionment; disillusionment gives way to despair; despair gives way to self-destruction. The organization they once served becomes a target of their internal grievances. The comrades they once marched alongside become objects of suspicion and blame. The cause they once championed becomes a source of bitterness.

“Injifannoo egeree otuu hin taane, kufaatii isaanii farrisuun dhalooti akka abdii muratu taasisu.”

The tragedy of the weak fighter is that their legacy becomes not victory but fragmentation. Rather than building a future of freedom, they leave behind a legacy of division and hopelessness. Future generations, inheriting the wreckage of internal conflict, come to believe that the struggle itself was futile.

This is the greatest danger the weak fighter poses—not just to themselves, but to the collective dream of liberation. When fighters turn against each other, when organizations dissolve into feuding factions, when the energy that should be directed against oppression is consumed by internal strife, the enemy wins without firing a shot.


The Strong Fighter: Resilience in the Face of Adversity

In stark contrast stands the strong fighter—one who, regardless of the circumstances, remains anchored in justice and truth.

“Qabsaa’oti jajjaboon, gama biraatiin, yeroo mara haqaa fi dhugaa irratti cichuun injifannoon argame akka daran guddatu falmatu.”

The strong fighter understands that victory is not guaranteed—it must be built, day by day, struggle by struggle, sacrifice by sacrifice. They know that the path to liberation is long and winding, filled with setbacks and sorrows. Yet they press forward, anchored in the conviction that justice and truth will ultimately prevail.

“Dhiibbaa fi miidhaan diinaa hagumuu itti jabaatu, karaa kaleessa ijaarrtanii ittiin xaxaa diinaa keessa darban hin tuqan; hin balaaleffatanis.”

No matter how intense the pressure, no matter how devastating the enemy’s attacks, the strong fighter holds firm. They do not abandon the strategies and structures carefully built over years of struggle. They do not compromise their principles or lose sight of their ultimate goal. They do not allow fear or frustration to erode their resolve.

“Inumaayyuu, jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”

Rather than being consumed by weakness, the strong fighter learns from it. They recognize that the challenges of today are preparing them for the victories of tomorrow. The strengths they develop in overcoming adversity become the foundation upon which future success is built. The weaknesses they identify and correct ensure that the next generation will not repeat the same mistakes.


The Oromo Liberation Struggle: A Case Study in Resilience

The Oromo people have endured over a century of colonial oppression under successive Ethiopian regimes. Their struggle for self-determination has witnessed moments of great triumph and devastating setback. Through it all, the distinction between the strong and the weak fighter has been starkly visible.

The Weak Fighter in Oromo History:

Throughout the Oromo struggle, there have been those who, unable to strike the colonial system effectively, turned their energies toward internal conflict. Factionalism, personal rivalries, and ideological disputes have at times weakened the movement and delayed the realization of Oromo liberation.

Some fighters, frustrated by the seeming impossibility of the struggle, abandoned the cause entirely. Others, unable to achieve their ambitions within the movement, sought to destroy it from within. Still others, consumed by their own grievances, lost sight of the collective dream.

The consequences of such weakness have been profound. Decades of struggle have been prolonged. Generations have been lost to internal division. The enemy has been strengthened by the disunity of the oppressed.

The Strong Fighter in Oromo History:

Yet alongside these cautionary tales stand the heroes of the Oromo struggle—those who, against all odds, maintained their commitment to justice and truth. From the early resistance fighters who faced Menelik’s forces with little more than courage and conviction, to the modern-day revolutionaries who have carried the torch of liberation into the 21st century, the strong fighters of Oromiya have refused to surrender to despair.

These are the fighters who, despite imprisonment, torture, and exile, never abandoned the cause. They who, when the movement was at its weakest, rebuilt it from the ashes. They who, when the enemy seemed invincible, found new ways to resist.

The strong fighters of Oromiya have understood that the struggle is not a sprint but a marathon. They have built institutions, trained cadres, and passed on the legacy of resistance to new generations. They have learned from setbacks and transformed defeats into stepping stones toward victory.


Lessons for All Struggles

The distinction between the strong and the weak fighter holds lessons that extend far beyond the Oromo liberation movement. Every struggle for justice—whether for civil rights, national liberation, or human dignity—faces the same challenges.

Lesson One: The Enemy Is Not Your Comrade

When external pressure mounts, the temptation to turn against one another is strong. But the true enemy is not the comrade who disagrees with you, the leader who makes mistakes, or the organization that disappoints. The true enemy is the system of oppression itself. Directing energy toward internal conflict serves only to strengthen the oppressor.

Lesson Two: Resilience Is Built, Not Given

Strong fighters are not born—they are forged in the fires of struggle. Each setback is an opportunity for learning. Each disappointment is a chance for growth. Each sacrifice strengthens the resolve to continue.

Lesson Three: Victory Belongs to the Persistent

The arc of history bends toward justice—but only because strong fighters continue to bend it. Victory is never guaranteed; it must be won through generations of persistent effort. Those who give up guarantee defeat; those who continue, no matter the obstacles, create the possibility of success.

Lesson Four: Legacy Matters

The weak fighter leaves behind division and despair. The strong fighter leaves behind hope and a foundation for future victory. What legacy will you leave? What will future generations say of your contribution to the struggle?


The Path Forward

As the Oromo liberation movement continues its journey toward self-determination, the choice between strength and weakness remains ever present. The challenges are immense—a powerful state apparatus, a history of division, and the weight of over a century of oppression. Yet the potential for victory has never been greater.

The strong fighter looks at these challenges and sees opportunity. The fractures in the Ethiopian state, the growing international awareness of Oromo issues, the increasing unity of the Oromo people—all point toward the possibility of liberation.

“Jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”

By recognizing and celebrating the strength that has carried the Oromo struggle this far, and by honestly addressing the weaknesses that have held it back, the movement can build toward a future of victory. The strong fighters of today are laying the foundation for the strong fighters of tomorrow.


Conclusion: The Choice Is Ours

The distinction between the strong and the weak fighter is not determined by circumstance but by choice. Every fighter, every activist, every revolutionary faces moments of doubt, fear, and exhaustion. The question is not whether these moments will come, but how we will respond when they do.

Will we turn our frustration inward and destroy ourselves? Or will we draw on the strength of our ancestors, the resilience of our comrades, and the certainty of our cause, and press forward?

The Oromo people have endured much. They have witnessed the destruction of their land, the suppression of their culture, and the denial of their rights. Yet they have not been destroyed. They have not surrendered. They have not given up hope.

“Qabsaa’oti jajjaboon, gama biraatiin, yeroo mara haqaa fi dhugaa irratti cichuun injifannoon argame akka daran guddatu falmatu.”

The strong fighter knows that victory is not simply the absence of defeat—it is the product of persistent, principled, and unwavering struggle. And it is this conviction that will ultimately carry the Oromo people from oppression to freedom, from injustice to justice, from despair to hope.


“Jabina ittiin walxaxaa diinaa keessa darban tifkachaa, laafina jiru immoo akka dhalootu ittaanu sirreeffatee fuulduratti milkii caalutti tarkanfatu hojjatu.”

Let us celebrate the strength with which we navigate the enemy’s complexities, and let us correct our weaknesses so that future generations may march forward to even greater victories.

The struggle continues. The strong fighter endures. And victory, however distant, remains within reach.

Blacksmith hammering heated metal on an anvil with sparks flying

The Unwritten Code: Why Word Order Holds the Key to Oromo Identity

By Dhabessa Wakjira

In a world increasingly dominated by linguistic homogenization, the quiet persistence of grammatical structure might seem like an esoteric concern for academics and purists. But in Ethiopia, a battle for cultural identity is being waged not on battlefields, but in the subtle ordering of nouns and adjectives. For the Oromo people, the rule “maqaa dursee, ibsituu gala”—placing the noun before the adjective—is not merely a stylistic quirk. It is a declaration of intellectual sovereignty.

A Language’s Silent Logic

Consider the geography of the Oromo homeland. We speak of Oromiyaa Lixaa (Western Oromia), Oromiyaa Bahaa (Eastern Oromia), Oromiyaa Kibba Bahaa (Southeastern Oromia), and Oromiyaa Giddugalaa (Central Oromia). The pattern is unmistakable: the subject—the nation itself—comes first. Its attributes, its regions, its descriptions follow. This is the bedrock of Afaan Oromo syntax.

Yet, this natural rhythm is under siege. The dominant linguistic forces in the region—Amharic and English—operate on an inverse logic. In English, one says “Western Oromia” (adjective + noun). In Amharic, the structure is Mirab Oromiyaa (Adjective + Noun). When speakers of these languages apply their grammatical framework to Oromo, the result is a linguistic Frankenstein: Lixaa Oromiyaa instead of Oromiyaa Lixaa.

Beyond Grammar: A Question of Respect

For Habtamu Boru, a linguist at Addis Ababa University, this is more than a grammatical faux pas. “Language is the blueprint of thought,” he argues. “When you alter the word order of a language, you are not just making a grammatical error; you are attempting to rewrite its cognitive DNA. The Oromo mind identifies the entity first—the nation, the person, the object—and then considers its qualities. To reverse that is to impose a foreign way of seeing the world.”

This becomes glaringly evident when we look at proper naming conventions. The historically and linguistically correct forms are:

· Arsii Bahaa (Eastern Arsi)

· Gujii Lixaa (Western Guji)

· Harargee Bahaa (Eastern Hararghe)

· Shawaa Lixaa (Western Shewa)

· Wallaggaa Bahaa (Eastern Wallagga)

When these are inverted—Bahaa Arsi or Lixaa Gujii—they cease to be authentic Oromo expressions. They become colonial imitations, betraying the speaker’s unfamiliarity with the soul of the language.

Why It Matters in 2026

As of 2026, Afaan Oromo is one of the most spoken languages in the Horn of Africa, with tens of millions of speakers. It is the working language of the Oromia Regional State and is increasingly used in education and media. Yet, the infiltration of foreign syntactic structures poses a silent threat.

The danger is insidious. Children learning Afaan Oromo in urban centers often adopt the adjective-first structure, mistaking it for modernization or fluency. The media, swayed by translation conventions from English and Amharic news sources, increasingly broadcast geographic and descriptive phrases that violate the core rule.

A Call to Linguistic Arms

The call to “Hordofuun Barbaachisaa Dha” (It is necessary to follow) is not about rigid prescriptivism. It is about preservation. It is a plea to remember that language is not a mechanical tool for communication; it is a vessel for history, for worldview, for dignity.

When we say Biyya Keenya (Our Country) and not Keenya Biyya, we affirm that the country belongs to us, not the description to the country. When we say Namuma Gaarii (A Good Person) and not Gaarii Namuma, we affirm that the person precedes their qualities.

As the Oromo proverb goes, “Afaan namatti haasa’uu akka ofii isaati”—speak to people in their own language. And to speak to the Oromo truly is to place their noun before the adjective.

The Path Forward

The solution lies in vigilance. Parents must correct their children. Educators must emphasize this rule alongside vocabulary. Media houses must hire competent editors who understand the structural integrity of Afaan Oromo. Most importantly, non-native speakers must recognize that adopting this rule is a gesture of respect, an acknowledgment that they are engaging with a culture that has its own logic, its own beauty, and its own way of ordering the world.

The rule is simple: Maqaa dursee, ibsituu gala. The noun first, the adjective follows. It is the key to a grammar, but it is also the key to a culture.

It is time to unlock it.

THE GENERATION OF THE BOOK: How the Keepers of Knowledge Forged a Living Purpose for Their Nation

They did not pick up arms alone; they picked up pens, manuscripts, and the dusty archives of memory—and in doing so, they gave their people a future worth fighting for.

By Our Staff Writer

There is a generation that walks among us—unassuming, often overlooked, yet carrying the weight of centuries upon their shoulders. They are not soldiers in the conventional sense. They do not stand on barricades with rifles. Their weapons are older, sharper, and far more enduring: books, scrolls, oral epics, and the sacred duty of remembrance.

This is the generation that read the book of knowledge not for personal glory, not for academic titles, but for their nation and their country. They understood that a people who forget their past are a people condemned to wander in the darkness of others’ narratives. So they opened their eyes, their ears, and their hearts to the whispers of their ancestors, and they transcribed those whispers into a living, breathing blueprint for the future.

They have set a Living Purpose—a compass not carved in stone, but etched into the very soul of the Oromo nation.

The Archive of Silence No More

For decades, the history of Oromia was a forbidden text. Colonial anthropologists wrote of the Oromo as a “stateless” people, a footnote to Ethiopian imperial narratives. State-sponsored textbooks erased the Gadaa system, reducing a 500-year-old democracy to a “primitive” custom. The language itself was relegated to the shadows, its beautiful rhythms and proverbs deemed too dangerous for the public sphere.

Then came the generation of the book.

They began in secret—under the flickering light of kerosene lamps, in the basements of diaspora homes, in the prayerful silence of elders’ huts. They transcribed oral histories that had survived the swords of conquerors. They translated ancient poems and legal codes. They documented the names of heroes whose graves had been deliberately unmarked. They studied the sciences of agriculture, linguistics, law, and political theory, not as abstract disciplines, but as tools for liberation.

This was not merely academic curiosity. It was archaeology of the soul. Every recovered manuscript, every restored lineage, every corrected historical distortion was a brick laid in the foundation of a nation that had been told it had no foundation at all.

The Book as the Blueprint

But this generation did not stop at remembrance. They were forward-looking—future-casting visionaries who understood that the past, no matter how glorious, is only the starting line.

They read, yes. But they also interpreted. They asked: What does the Gadaa system teach us about governance today? How can the Oromo philosophy of Nagaa (peace) inform conflict resolution in a fractured region? What economic models are sustainable for the pastoralists of the Borana and the farmers of Arsi? How can the Oromo diaspora, scattered across the globe, remain connected to the homeland without losing their hard-won international solidarity?

The generation of the book synthesized these questions into a Living Purpose—a dynamic, evolving vision that adapts to changing circumstances while remaining rooted in eternal values. They did not propose a rigid ideology, but a method: a way of being Oromo that is simultaneously ancient and modern, particular and universal, rooted and reaching.

This purpose is not a document gathering dust on a shelf. It is a living will, passed from elder to youth, from rural village to urban university, from the highlands to the diaspora. It grows, it breathes, it argues with itself—and in that self-critique, it becomes stronger.

The Pedagogy of the Rising Sun

How do you teach a nation to read its own future?

The generation of the book understood that literacy is not merely the ability to decode letters; it is the capacity to decode power. They established schools where none existed—underground classrooms beneath the shade of the Odaa tree, where children learned their mother tongue while the state listened for whispers of sedition. They published pamphlets, newsletters, and eventually, fully-fledged books that laid bare the mechanisms of their oppression and the pathways to their emancipation.

They also taught critical reading. They encouraged their students to question, to cross-reference, to recognize bias in official narratives. They did not want obedient subjects; they wanted sovereign minds—citizens capable of discerning truth from propaganda, justice from ritualized injustice.

In this way, the book became a liberation pedagogy. Every page read, every footnote examined, every historical contradiction exposed, was an act of resistance more potent than any weapon. Because an army can be defeated; a regime can fall; but a generation that knows how to think? That is a force no tyranny can suppress.

The Living Purpose in Action

Today, we see the fruits of that labor.

In the global forums of human rights advocacy, Oromo intellectuals cite their own traditions of democratic governance to challenge international observers. In the digital corridors of social media, a new generation of Oromo writers, poets, and meme-makers use their ancestors’ wit to dismantle contemporary prejudice. In the universities of the diaspora, students majoring in Oromo studies reclaim a heritage that was once “impractical” and “irrelevant” to Western academia.

The Living Purpose is materialized in the Oromo flag—that trinity of black, red, and white—which is not just a piece of cloth, but a summary of the book they read: black for the land, red for the sacrifice, white for the dawn to come. It is manifested in the Irreechaa festival, where thousands gather to give thanks, not as a ritualistic relic, but as a vibrant, contemporary expression of ecological spirituality.

And it is embodied in the quiet dignity of an Oromo mother who, despite the threat of arrest, teaches her child to say, “Ani Oromoo”—I am Oromo—with the same natural, unbreakable pride with which she breathes.

The Unfinished Chapter

Yet, the book is not complete. This generation knows that their task is not finished. The Living Purpose is not a destination; it is an open road.

There are still histories to recover, languages to revive, and systems to redesign. There are still young minds, especially in rural communities, who lack access to the very books that could set them free. There are still regimes that burn libraries and persecute poets, believing that if they destroy the words, they destroy the nation.

But they have already lost. Because the generation of the book has ensured that the words live within the people. No fire can burn a book that has been committed to memory. No censorship can silence a story that is carried on the tongue and passed through the blood.

A Final Leaf

As the sun descends over the Oromo homeland, casting its long shadows across the Rift Valley, one can almost hear the turning of pages—the rustle of a billion hopes, inscribed not in ink, but in action.

The generation that read for their nation has set a purpose that will outlive them. They have planted a forest of knowledge, and though they may not sit in its final shade, they have ensured that their children, and their children’s children, will.

They read the book. They understood the mission. And they passed it on—not as a relic, but as a flame.

The pages turn. The purpose lives. And the nation, at last, begins to write its own destiny.

The Personal Cost: What Participation Really Means in the Oromo Struggle

Rusty chain breaking apart as pieces turn into flying birds over stormy ocean waves
Chains shatter into birds flying against a stormy sky over a rocky sea coast

By Daandii Ragabaa


Participation in the Oromo struggle is not a badge of honor to be worn lightly. It carries real costs: the risk of imprisonment, the loss of employment, the strain on family relationships, the psychological toll of witnessing injustice and state violence. To enter this path without understanding these burdens is not bravery—it is recklessness.

For many young Oromos, the call to action feels almost magnetic. It pulses through social media feeds, echoes in university lecture halls, and reverberates in the whispers of elders who remember previous struggles. The desire for bilisummaa—freedom—burns bright, and rightfully so. But brightness can blind, and passion untempered by preparation can lead to devastation.

The Weight of Knowledge

The informed participant calculates these costs soberly. They do not romanticize martyrdom but prepare for the possibility of sacrifice. This is a critical distinction: one can be willing to sacrifice without seeking suffering. The romanticized image of the revolutionary—defiant, fearless, untouchable—is a dangerous fiction that has shattered too many young lives.

Consider the family left behind when a participant is detained. The mother who cannot sleep. The children who grow up without a parent’s presence. The spouse who must navigate a sudden single-income household. These are not abstractions; they are the daily realities of thousands of Oromo families across Ethiopia and the diaspora.

Building the Foundation

The wise participant builds support networks before they are needed. They identify trusted friends who can act as emergency contacts. They establish communication protocols. They ensure their family understands—to the extent possible—the risks involved. They plan for the psychological and material consequences of their involvement.

This planning is not cowardice. It is the opposite. It is the recognition that the struggle is a marathon, not a sprint. That sustainability matters. That burning out in the first mile serves no one.

Mental health preparation is particularly crucial. Witnessing state violence—whether in person or through graphic videos shared online—leaves scars. The constant hypervigilance, the grief for fallen comrades, the anger that simmers just beneath the surface—these accumulate. Participants who ignore their psychological well-being often find themselves unable to continue when their community needs them most.

The Material Realities

Loss of employment is not a theoretical risk. In Ethiopia, known activists have been dismissed from government positions, blacklisted from private sector jobs, and denied educational opportunities. In the diaspora, there are subtler forms of economic retaliation: lost contracts, strained business relationships, sudden “restructuring” at workplaces.

Financial planning, therefore, becomes an act of resistance. Saving emergency funds. Maintaining skills that remain marketable regardless of political climate. Diversifying income sources. These are not signs of divided loyalty but of strategic thinking.

A Call to Maturity

This is not a counsel of fear but of maturity. The struggle is too important to be undertaken by those who have not counted the cost. Freedom is not won through impulse but through sustained, strategic, and sober effort.

The Oromo people have endured too much to have their liberation squandered by recklessness. Every arrest, every career lost, every family torn apart—these are not abstract statistics. They are the flesh and blood of the movement. To treat them carelessly is to dishonor their sacrifice.

So before you post that video, before you attend that protest, before you speak those words that cannot be unsaid—pause. Count the cost. Build your support. Prepare your mind. Strengthen your body. And then, with clear eyes and a full heart, decide.

Because the most powerful participants in any struggle are not the ones who act without thinking—they are the ones who think deeply, prepare thoroughly, and then act with unwavering commitment.

That is what participation really means.


If you or someone you know is struggling with the psychological toll of involvement in political activism, please reach out to trusted community supports or mental health professionals. Your wellbeing matters—to your family, your community, and the struggle itself.

The Oromo People of the UK Establish a Lasting Legacy: The Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation

By Maatii Sabaa


In the heart of the United Kingdom, far from the highlands of Oromia, a profound act of remembrance is taking shape. The Oromo community in England, in collaboration with the global Oromo diaspora, has initiated a project that transforms grief into action and memory into a living legacy: the Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation.

Six years after the iconic artist and activist was assassinated in Addis Ababa, his voice refuses to fade. In the UK, members of the diaspora have taken upon themselves the sacred duty of ensuring that his sacrifice was not in vain, carrying forward his mission of cultural preservation, justice, and empowerment.

A Voice Silenced, A Movement Strengthened

Haacaaluu Hundeessaa was more than a musician. His 2015 single Maalan Jira (What Existence Is Mine) became the rallying anthem of the Oromo protests that fundamentally altered Ethiopia’s political landscape . His lyrics captured the pain of displacement, the humiliation of marginalization, and the unyielding pride of a people refusing to disappear .

Born in 1986 in Ambo, Haacaaluu’s path to becoming a cultural icon was forged in hardship. At just 17 years old, he was arrested for his political activities and imprisoned for five years without charge. It was in that incarceration that he shaped his identity and composed most of the songs that would define his career .

His assassination on June 29, 2020, sent shockwaves through the Oromo nation and Ethiopia as a whole, described by one commentator as “a spear through the heart of the Oromo nation” . The grief was so intense it triggered major protests that led to the loss of hundreds of lives. Yet from this tragedy emerged a renewed commitment to Haacaaluu’s vision.

Building the Foundation

The Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation in the UK represents a concrete effort to honor the artist’s legacy through structured, sustainable action. This initiative builds upon similar efforts already underway in Ethiopia—most notably at Jimma University, which established a foundation in his name in 2020 .

Jimma University’s President, Dr. Jemal Abafita, articulated the vision when the foundation was first announced: “Haacaaluu is physically gone from us, but his works remain with us, and his legacy must grow stronger. As an institution of higher learning, we must emerge from this deep grief by remembering his name, making his sacrifice meaningful, and ensuring he occupies a great place in history” .

The UK-based foundation extends this mission to the diaspora, recognizing that the preservation of Oromo culture and the pursuit of justice require both local and international effort.

More Than Remembrance

The Oromo community in the UK has long been active in cultural preservation. Registered charities like the Oromo Community in Brighton & Hove work year-round to provide education in the Oromo language, history, and culture for children, ensuring that the next generation maintains its connection to its heritage .

The Haacaaluu Foundation amplifies these efforts. Its scope—as envisioned by its Ethiopian counterpart—embraces national and international partnership, with a focus on incubating youth talent and sustainably supporting educational initiatives. For the diaspora community, this means creating pathways for young Oromos in the UK to learn their language, understand their history, and engage with the struggle for justice in a meaningful way.

The Digital Bridge

One of the most powerful aspects of Haacaaluu’s legacy preservation has been the digitalization and global distribution of his music. A collaborative effort led by his childhood friend Olii Taammiraat, an ICT expert, ensured that Haacaaluu’s songs were made available on over 150 music platforms worldwide, including iTunes, Amazon Music, Apple Music, and Spotify .

This achievement was remarkable: for seven consecutive days, Haacaaluu’s music topped international charts—a first for any Ethiopian artist . As Olii explained to the BBC, “Haacaaluu was not just a musician; he was the voice of the people. His songs carry history, our wounds, and our hopes. When we lost him, it felt like that voice was stolen from us. We could not let that happen” .

The foundation builds on this work, ensuring that Haacaaluu’s music continues to reach new audiences and inspire new generations.

A Call to the Diaspora

For the Oromo diaspora in the UK, the establishment of the Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation represents a call to action. As community elders in diaspora commemorations have declared, “Haacaaluu gave us a mandate. His blood and his art demand a response from the Oromo people. We must respond to his sacrifice by vigorously demanding our inalienable rights” .

The foundation provides a structured vehicle for that response—a way to channel grief into action, memory into mission, and cultural pride into political advocacy. The Oromo community in the UK, like their counterparts in New Zealand, Nairobi, and across the world, are proving that while the man may be gone, the movement he inspired is more alive than ever .

Conclusion

The Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation, as envisioned by the Oromo people of England and their partners, is a testament to the enduring power of art and the unbreakable spirit of a people. It is not merely a monument to a fallen hero but a living institution dedicated to the values he embodied: cultural pride, justice, and the relentless pursuit of freedom.

As Haacaaluu’s widow powerfully stated at his funeral, “Haacaaluu is not dead. He will remain in my heart and the hearts of millions of Oromo people forever” . In the United Kingdom, that promise is being kept—not through words alone, but through the concrete, sustainable work of a foundation built in his name.

The struggle continues. And with it, Haacaaluu’s voice—carried by the Oromo people of the UK and the global diaspora—refuses to be silenced.


For more information about the Haacaaluu Hundeessaa Foundation and ways to support its work, contact the Oromo Community in Brighton & Hove at 42 Manor Way, Brighton, BN2 5EF.

The Unconquerable Equal: What an Ancient Oromo Proverb Teaches Us About Power and Humanity

In the quiet rhythms of Oromo tradition, nestled within the democratic folds of the Gadaa system, lies a proverb of profound audacity:

“Akka sirna Gadaatti namni kamuu namummaan nama kaan hin caalu; namni hundi walqixxee dha.”

Translated, it declares: “In the Gadaa system, no one is superior to another by virtue of humanity; all people are equal.”

To the modern ear, it might sound like a simple platitude, a nod to a universal truth we all claim to hold. But to understand this saying is to discover a revolutionary blueprint for society that challenges the very foundations of power as we know it.

The Wellspring of Equality

The Gadaa system is not merely a historical relic; it is a living, breathing indigenous democratic practice of the Oromo people. For centuries, it has served as a socio-political and religious framework, organizing society not by brute force, inherited status, or accumulated wealth, but by age and demonstrated wisdom.

Every eight years, power transfers peacefully from one generation to the next. This is not a coup, not an election marred by mudslinging, but a ceremony. It is a ritualized passing of the baton that ensures no single individual, family, or clan can amass permanent control.

It is from this system that the proverb springs. It declares a foundational truth: your humanity is your only title. Not your lineage, not your cattle, not your military might. Your namummaa—your essential humanness—is the only metric that truly matters.

Beyond Hierarchy: The Oromo Challenge

In a world obsessed with hierarchies—the CEO above the intern, the president above the citizen, the celebrity above the fan—this Oromo worldview is a radical act of defiance. It suggests that all constructed pecking orders are fragile illusions.

The proverb is a shield against arrogance and a sword against oppression. If a leader believes themselves inherently superior, they have already violated the Gadaa principle. The system demands that leaders, the Abba Gadaa, are not tyrants but servants of the collective will. Their authority is functional, not intrinsic. It is a role, not a birthright.

This is where the proverb resonates deeply with modern democratic ideals. It prefigures the Enlightenment concept of equality by centuries. It echoes the words of revolutionaries and civil rights leaders who insisted that the color of skin, the gender of the body, or the nation of one’s birth do not define the worth of the soul.

The Unseen Thread of Connection

But perhaps the most profound implication of “all people are equal” is not political, but spiritual and social. It binds the community together with a thread of mutual responsibility.

If we are all equal, then the welfare of my neighbor is as important as my own. My success is not a victory over another, but a contribution to the collective whole. This is the bedrock of Gadaa governance—a system that relies on consensus, dialogue, and a shared sense of duty. It fosters a society where status is earned through service and character, not through aggression or accumulation.

A Lost Compass for a Troubled World

As we navigate the 21st century—beset by inequality, systemic injustice, and the cult of personality—the wisdom of the Oromo ancestors offers a compass. The proverb “Akka sirna Gadaatti…” is a challenge to the status quo.

It calls us to look beyond the titles on our business cards and the zeros in our bank accounts. It urges us to see the sacred, unassailable equality in the eyes of every stranger we meet.

Because in the end, the Gadaa system reminds us of a simple truth we so often forget: before we are kings, laborers, rich, or poor, we are simply human. And in that shared humanity, we are all—always and forever—equal.

INVESTIGATIVE REPORT: SYSTEMATIC PERSECUTION OF OROMO PEOPLE IN ETHIOPIA

Rusty scales of justice caught in barbed wire on dry cracked ground
Rusty scales of justice tangled in barbed wire on cracked earth

By an Investigative Reporter in Finfinne


Executive Summary

This report documents systematic human rights violations against Oromo people across Ethiopia’s Oromia region, based on extensive testimonies, government reports, and international documentation. The evidence reveals a pattern of state-sponsored persecution targeting Oromo individuals based on their ethnic identity and perceived political affiliations, creating conditions that meet international definitions of persecution under refugee and asylum law.


The Scale of the Crisis

In Oromia, harm and brutality targeting Oromo children based on their identity and political perceptions are widespread and escalating. Oromo children living in areas where the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) operates—including Western Oromia, Wellegga, Shambu, West Shewa, North Shewa, Karrayyoo, Guji, Arsi, and Eastern Oromia—face multifaceted forms of persecution.

The Ethiopian Human Rights Commission (EHRC), in its 2025 annual report covering June 2024 to June 2025, documented extensive violations of fundamental rights across Oromia, including extrajudicial killings, abductions, physical harm, and widespread destruction of property. Both government forces and the OLA have been implicated in these abuses.


Testimony: The Reality of Persecution

A young man from the Shambu area, who requested anonymity due to fear for his safety, described his ordeal to this reporter. While traveling from Shambu to Finfinne (Addis Ababa), he was stopped by security forces who demanded he present his identity documents.

“When they saw my ID showing Shambu, they arrested me. During detention, I endured severe beatings and torture. They accused me of coming to Finfinne to join the insurgency, despite my insistence that as an Oromo, I had no connection to armed groups. After two months of detention, they released me with a warning. Since then, I have been unable to freely move or speak about my origins. My family continues to be harassed by militia demanding to know my whereabouts and threatening to involve the WBO [an armed group].”

This account mirrors the experience of Mr. W, another Oromo asylum seeker who was arrested in June 2020 following protests after the killing of Oromo singer and civil rights activist Hachalu Hundessa. Soldiers interrogated him about being Oromo and accused him of being part of the Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) or Oromo Liberation Front (OLF)—groups he had never been involved with. He was jailed for three months, and after his release, soldiers monitored and chased him. In January 2021, he was jailed again for a month on similar accusations, with police interrogating and beating him daily. In 2023, the government jailed his parents and threatened to kill them unless he returned. His parents told him to flee.


The Koree Nageenyaa: A Secret Network of Persecution

A Reuters investigation uncovered the operations of the Koree Nageenyaa—or Security Committee—a clandestine group of senior officials in Oromia that has ordered extra-judicial killings and illegal detentions as part of efforts to crush the insurgency. Human rights sources indicate that this committee specifically targets young Oromo with modern hairstyles or appearances that allegedly signal opposition sympathies. Female Oromo face particular vulnerability to sexual violence by security forces. Young people have also reported being asked for bribes by security forces; those unable to pay face immediate detention.


Official Documentation of Systematic Abuses

The EHRC 2025 Report

The Ethiopian Human Rights Commission’s 2025 annual report documented:

  • Extrajudicial killings across multiple zones in Oromia
  • Abductions and arbitrary detentions
  • Physical harm and torture
  • Widespread destruction of property
  • Both government forces and the OLA implicated in abuses

United Nations Documentation

The UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (UNOCHA) reported that conflict-related displacement persists in Oromia, with nearly 220,000 people displaced along the Oromia-Somali border. In July 2025, renewed inter-communal violence erupted along the Oromia–Somali border, displacing over 288,000 people.

Humanitarian Assessment

UNOCHA’s assessment found that in Oromia Region alone, an estimated 151,972 people are displaced across multiple districts. Displaced families are sheltering in makeshift shelters made of plastic sheets, clothing, and sticks, offering little protection from the elements. Women, children, the elderly, and persons with disabilities face heightened vulnerabilities, including fear of retaliation, gender-based violence, and psychological trauma.


Legal Framework for Persecution Claims

Under international law, as defined by the 1951 Refugee Convention and its 1967 Protocol, persecution is defined as the act of harassing or oppressing a person or a group of people, especially because of their identity. Persecution includes unfair or abusive treatment toward a person or group based on race, religion, ethnicity, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group.

For an asylum claim, the following elements must be meticulously documented:

  • Dates and locations of incidents
  • Types of abuse suffered
  • Names of perpetrators (if known)
  • Medical records documenting injuries
  • Witness statements
  • Evidence of state involvement or failure to protect

Past persecution and fear of future persecution by government actors on account of political opinion and race form the core of the case.


Critical Findings for Asylum Assessment

Political Opinion

Many Oromo asylum seekers are targeted not because of what they have done, but because of what they are perceived to believe. Simply being Oromo can be enough to attract suspicion. Political engagement—whether real or imagined—significantly increases the risk.

The European Union Agency for Asylum (EUAA) has documented cases where Oromo individuals faced persecution due to their political opinions. Even Oromo individuals who have never been involved with opposition groups can be targeted. Mr. W was arrested and beaten despite having no connection to the OLA or OLF. His only “crime” was being Oromo and being present at a protest.

Place of Origin and Residence

European courts have recognized that “the risk of persecution due to affiliation with OLA applied throughout Oromia, even in areas where there is no active armed conflict.” This is a critical point: an Oromo person cannot simply move to a “safer” part of Oromia and escape persecution. The threat follows them.

Risk of Persecution upon Return

For many Oromo asylum seekers, return to Ethiopia would expose them to:

  • Continued targeting by security forces
  • Inter-communal violence in their home areas
  • The risk of being forcibly conscripted or accused of supporting armed groups
  • The inability to relocate safely within Oromia

The Human Rights Situation: A Critical Assessment

The human rights situation in Oromia is described as “critical.” The Ethiopian government has intensified its crackdown on independent media and civil society ahead of elections slated for 2026. Security forces have arbitrarily detained healthcare workers, and humanitarian needs remain acute. The government restricts access to Oromia for journalists and rights groups, meaning much of the conflict and its human toll remains hidden from the world.

“Unfortunately, the human rights situation—as well as the overall humanitarian crisis in Oromia—is underreported,” said Getu Saketa Roro, co-founder of the Human Rights League of the Horn of Africa.

The Oromo Liberation Army (OLA) has called for independent investigations into what it describes as “systematic terror, state-orchestrated brutality, and entrenched impunity.”


Conclusion

The documentation and testimony gathered in this investigation establish a consistent pattern of persecution against Oromo people in Ethiopia based on their ethnic identity and perceived political opinions. This persecution is perpetrated by state actors, including security forces and the clandestine Koree Nageenyaa, and has created a situation where Oromo individuals face well-founded fear of persecution throughout the Oromia region.

The legal and humanitarian frameworks, including the 1951 Refugee Convention, the Ethiopian Human Rights Commission’s findings, and documentation by United Nations agencies, support the conclusion that Oromo asylum seekers from Ethiopia have legitimate claims based on a well-founded fear of persecution on account of their race, ethnicity, and political opinion.


This report is based on on-the-ground investigation, interviews with survivors, analysis of official government and UN reports, and review of international legal frameworks. Some names have been withheld to protect individuals who remain in danger.

The Enduring Wisdom of Gumaa: How an Indigenous Justice System Heals Communities and Prevents Revenge

For centuries, the Oromo people of Ethiopia have practised a unique system of restorative justice that focuses not on punishment, but on healing the social fabric. Known as “Gumaa,” this indigenous institution offers profound lessons for modern conflict resolution.


Across the diverse landscapes of Ethiopia, communities have long relied on traditional systems to resolve disputes and maintain social harmony. Among the most sophisticated of these is Gumaa, the Oromo institution for settling blood feuds. In a world where modern legal systems often leave victims feeling unheard and communities fractured, Gumaa stands as a powerful alternative—one that prioritises healing over punishment and peace over retribution.

“Gumaa is one of the multitude of Oromo indigenous institutions that has exclusively been used to settle blood feuds of various types” . As researcher Tamene Keneni explains, the term Gumaa carries multiple meanings, but at its core, it refers to the institution of settling blood feuds through compensation, cleansing rituals, and reconciliation .


Beyond Punishment: The Philosophy of Gumaa

The philosophy underpinning Gumaa is rooted in two fundamental Oromo values: Nagaa (peace) and Safuu (moral order). For the Oromo, peace is not merely the absence of conflict, but an essential key to an orderly universe and societal wellbeing that humans must actively pursue . This is reflected in daily greetings, songs, prayers, and proverbs—a recognition that peace is central to life itself.

Unlike the modern judicial system, which tends to focus on punishing the offender, Gumaa aims to restore relationships that have been ruptured by wrongdoing. As one study notes, the practice “prioritises restorative justice over retributive justice, targeting restoring the ruptured relations between the parties in dispute to maintain social order and peace rather than punishing the offender and compensating the victim” .

When a homicide occurs, both the clan of the killer and the clan of the victim take responsibility for resolving the dispute. The process involves neutral elders who serve as mediators, guiding the conflicting parties through a journey of acknowledgment, compensation, and ultimately, reconciliation .


The Ritual Journey: From Blood Feud to Brotherhood

The Gumaa process is far more than a simple transaction. It involves a series of deeply meaningful rituals designed to heal emotional wounds and prevent the cycle of revenge from continuing into the next generation.

The reconciliation process typically begins with the offender’s supplication or payment of Shimoto to the victim’s family . This is followed by elaborate purification ceremonies, including the slaughter of cattle, handwashing rituals, and oaths that carry profound spiritual significance . These rituals are not merely symbolic—they serve a psychological function, helping both parties to process grief, anger, and the desire for vengeance.

As Tamene Keneni describes, the Gumaa ritual includes cleansing ceremonies that allow the slayer to be reintegrated into the community . This is a crucial element of the system: the goal is not to permanently alienate the offender, but to bring them back into the fold, ensuring that the community remains whole.

The outcome can be transformative. In some cases, former enemies are united through marriage, turning hostility into kinship . This remarkable capacity to convert conflict into connection is what makes Gumaa so unique.


Lessons for the World: What Gumaa Teaches Us

The Gumaa system offers several valuable lessons for modern conflict resolution:

1. Justice Must Heal, Not Just Punish

Modern legal systems often leave communities fractured even after a verdict is delivered. Gumaa demonstrates that justice can also be about healing—acknowledging the pain of the victim’s family, giving them a voice, and ensuring that the offender takes genuine responsibility .

2. Community Involvement Strengthens Outcomes

In the Gumaa system, the entire community plays a role in resolving disputes. Elders, clan leaders, and even ordinary members are involved in the process, ensuring that the outcome is accepted and respected by all. This collective ownership makes the peace more sustainable .

3. Ritual and Symbolism Matter

The rituals of Gumaa—the handwashing, the oaths, the shared meals—help to create a sense of closure and renewal. They provide a tangible way for people to move forward, leaving behind the weight of the past .

4. Forgiveness Is a Choice Worth Making

The Oromo believe that forgiveness (oofuu or yaa hafuu) is a higher value than revenge . This is not naivety—it is a recognition that the alternative, endless cycles of vengeance, only brings more suffering.


A Call for Recognition and Integration

Despite its effectiveness, Gumaa faces significant challenges. Lack of awareness, limited documentation, and competition from the state justice system have contributed to its decline . Yet there is growing recognition that these indigenous institutions have immense value.

The Ethiopian Constitution, under Article 78(5), allows for the recognition of customary and religious courts, suggesting a pathway for integration . Scholars have called for the official recognition and revitalisation of Gumaa, arguing that it could complement the formal legal system, reduce court workloads, and offer a more accessible form of justice for rural communities .

As one researcher notes, Gumaa is “time effective, prevents revenge and financial saving” . Its ability to address deep-seated grievances at the community level could be a powerful tool for peacebuilding in Ethiopia and beyond.


A Tradition Worth Preserving

In a country that has experienced decades of political turmoil and ethnic conflict, the wisdom of Gumaa is more relevant than ever. It offers a proven, locally rooted approach to reconciliation—one that does not require expensive legal fees, lengthy court processes, or foreign intervention.

Gumaa reminds us that justice is not just about laws and punishment. It is about people, relationships, and the shared desire to live in peace. It is a testament to the resilience of indigenous knowledge and its capacity to address some of the most complex challenges of human existence.

“The ultimate goal of any type of nagaa is communal well-being in an orderly universe” . In a world that often seems fragmented, the Oromo people’s ancient wisdom offers a path toward wholeness.


The Gumaa system stands as a vital example of how indigenous knowledge can illuminate the path to a more just and peaceful future—one community at a time.

A Life of Faith and Legacy: Honouring Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo

“Qulqulloonni ajaja Rabbii eegan, kanneen Yesuusii fiis amanamoo tahanii obsaan sabatan, kanaan beekaman.”
“Blessed are those who keep God’s commands, who are faithful to Jesus and patiently endure.”


A Farewell to a Spiritual Father

On a somber yet hopeful day, the Oromo Christian community and beyond came together to honour the passing of a remarkable servant of God—Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo. His funeral service, held at Fairview Baptist Church in Calgary, Canada, was a testament to a life well-lived, a legacy of faith, and a homecoming to eternal rest.

The Oromo Bible Society (OBiS) expressed profound gratitude for the life and work of this dedicated servant. In their reflection, they wrote:

“Hojii Hiikkaa Macaafa Qulqulluu keessatti, hojii seena qabeessi isin hojjettan jiraataadha. Waldaan Macaafa Qulqulluu Oromoo galata guddaa isiniif qaba.”
“In the work of translating the Holy Scripture, you have done a historic work. The Oromo Bible Society has great gratitude for you.”


A Life of Service to the Word of God

Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo was not just a translator—he was a bridge between the sacred text and the Oromo people. His work in Bible translation ensured that generations of Oromo Christians would have access to the Word of God in their own language, a gift that transcends time and geography.

The Oromo Bible Society honoured his contribution, remembering him as one of the key figures in the historic work of bringing the Scriptures to the Oromo people. In a message shared by HW Abdusalaam Ruduwaan, a close colleague, the depth of Luba Shamsuddiin’s impact is evident:

“Abbaa keenya nagayaan gara boqonnaa keetti gali.”
“Our father, rest in peace.”


A Legacy of Faith and Endurance

The life of Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo was marked by faithfulness, perseverance, and unwavering commitment to his calling. His family, colleagues, and community remember him as a man who lived by the principles he preached.

As the scripture chosen for his farewell reminds us:

“Asii achi warri kan Gooftaa tahanoi du’an, eeybifamoo dha jedhii tii katabi! sagalee jettu takkaan samii keeysaa dhagaye. Ruuhal Qudusiis, ‘Eeyye, hojii isaanii isaan duukaa waan deemtuuf jecha, dadhabbii isaanii irraa haara ni galfatu’ jedha.” (Mul 14:12-13)

“Then I heard a voice from heaven say, ‘Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.’ ‘Yes,’ says the Spirit, ‘they will rest from their labour, for their deeds will follow them.'”

These words capture the essence of Luba Shamsuddiin’s journey—a life of labour for the Kingdom, now at rest, with his deeds following him as a testimony to his faithfulness.


A Father’s Legacy

To his children, Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo was more than a spiritual leader—he was a father, a mentor, and an example of unwavering faith. In a heartfelt tribute, one of his children expressed:

“Baabaa kiyya nagayaan boqadhu, bara jireenya kiyyaa hundumaa sin dagadhu, ati fakkeenya anaaf hin darbine, mallattoo cichoomaa fi mullata guddaa naaf taatee jirta, bara jireenya kiyyaa hundumaa sin irraanfadhu.”
“My father, rest in peace. I will never forget you all the days of my life. You have been an example for me that will not pass away—a sign of perseverance and great vision. I will never forget you all the days of my life.”

His children—Beeftu Abdo, Gorsitu Shamsudin Abdo, Ibsitu Shamsudin, Rebu Abdo, John Esaias, and others—carry forward the legacy of faith he instilled in them. The family was encouraged to remain strong in the Lord:

“Jajjabina Ruuhal Qus kennuu fi ayyaana Gooftaatiin jajjabaadhaa.”
“Be strengthened by the Spirit’s grace and the Lord’s blessing.”


A Call to Continue the Journey

As the Oromo Bible Society and the wider community mourn his loss, they also celebrate his life. The work he started—the translation of the Holy Scriptures, the teaching of God’s Word, and the building of faith—continues through those he inspired.

His close colleague, Evangelist Abduselam Redwan, reflected on the unfinished work:

“Akkuma hujiiwwan kanaan duraa akkuma fixnee ummataan geenye hujiiwwan hafanii fi imaanaa si fi Gooftaarraa taateen nutti darbite hundumaas niin xumura, kaayyoo fi mullata ati jiraatteef suniis niin humna Gooftaatiin niin milkeeysa.”
“Just as we have completed the works before us and reached the people, we will finish the remaining works, and the faith that you have passed on to us—we will complete it by the grace of God. The purpose and vision you lived for will be fulfilled by the power of the Lord.”


Honouring His Memory

The words of Hebrews 13:7 were a guiding verse for Luba Shamsuddiin’s life and a call for those who follow:

“Warra hooggantoota, kanneen Qoowlii Rabbii isin barsiisaa turan yaadadhaa! Haala jireenya isaanii laalaa, amantii isaanii duukaa bu’aa!”
“Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith!”


A Final Prayer

As the Oromo community in Canada, Ethiopia, and around the world mourns the loss of Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo, they take comfort in the promise of eternal rest. His work, his faith, and his legacy live on in the hearts of those he touched.

“Abbaa keenya nagayaan gara boqonnaa keetti gali.”
“Our father, rest in peace.”


Luba Shamsuddiin Abdoo — A servant of God, a translator of Scripture, a father of faith, a legacy of love.


“Father, thank you for your life. We will continue your journey. We will keep the faith.”

A Night of Gratitude: Celebrating the Legacy of Oromo Parents

“Galgala haadhaa Abbaa kiyya, galgala ajaa’iba…”
“Thank you, my mother and father, thank you for this amazing evening…”


On a night that will be remembered for years to come, the Oromo community came together to honour the pillars of their families—the parents who sacrificed everything to give their children a future. The event, a celebration of resilience, love, and heritage, was a testament to the enduring spirit of a people who have carried their culture across oceans and generations.


A Celebration of Sacrifice and Love

In every culture, parents are the unsung heroes—the ones who work tirelessly, often in obscurity, to build a foundation for their children. For the Oromo community, this truth is magnified by the weight of displacement, the pain of exile, and the determination to preserve identity in a foreign land.

The recent celebration in honour of Oromo parents was more than a social gathering. It was a recognition of the countless nights of worry, the endless hours of labour, and the unshakeable faith that parents have placed in their children. It was a moment to pause, to reflect, and to say: “Galatoomaa”—Thank you.

As Aisha Oromia Ali, expressed in a heartfelt reflection:

“A night celebrating my parents, thank you to the organising committee, family, friends and our community for being a part of this memorable event and special thanks to ShaboMedia Oromiya for capturing the memories. Very proud of you all.”


The Organising Committee: Architects of Memory

Behind every great event is a team of dedicated individuals who work tirelessly to bring a vision to life. The organising committee of this celebration poured their hearts into creating an evening that would honour the past while inspiring the future. From coordinating logistics to curating a program that reflected the richness of Oromo culture, their efforts did not go unnoticed.

As one attendee, Aisha’s gratitude extended to them:

“Warri koree, maatiifii hiriyoota akkasumas hawaasa bal’aa kan qooda baataniin galata gurguddaa hammana hin ja’amne qabadan, wayyoomaa.”
“The committee, family, and friends, and the wider community who participated—you have our deepest gratitude, which will never be forgotten.”

Their work ensured that the evening was not just an event, but a meaningful experience—a bridge between generations, a celebration of identity, and a reaffirmation of community bonds.


ShaboMedia Oromiya: Preserving the Moments

In the age of digital memory, the role of media in preserving cultural moments cannot be overstated. ShaboMedia Oromiya, the official media partner for the event, captured the essence of the evening with professionalism and heart. Their cameras documented the smiles, the tears, the embraces, and the speeches—creating a visual legacy that will be cherished for generations.

Aisha acknowledged their contribution with warmth:

“Shabboo media iilleen galata addaa qaban.”
“ShaboMedia also deserves special thanks.”

Through their lens, the celebration was immortalised—ensuring that the memories of this night will be shared with those who could not attend and with future generations who will look back and see the love and pride of their ancestors.


The Power of Community

At its heart, the evening was a celebration of community—of the bonds that tie the Oromo people together, no matter where they are in the world. In a diaspora scattered across continents, events like these serve as anchors, reminding everyone of who they are and where they come from.

The attendance of family, friends, and community members reflected the collective commitment to preserving Oromo culture and honouring the sacrifices of the past. The support of the wider community was deeply appreciated:

“…kan qooda baataniin galata gurguddaa hammana hin ja’amne qabadan…”
“…you who participated, you have our deepest gratitude, which will never be forgotten.”


A Message to Parents: Your Legacy Lives On

For the parents who were honoured that night, the message was clear: We see you. We appreciate you. We will carry your legacy forward.

The title of the celebration, “Galgala haadhaa Abbaa kiyya” (Thank you, my mother and father), is more than a phrase—it is a declaration of love, respect, and commitment. It acknowledges the sleepless nights, the sacrifices made, and the dreams that parents hold for their children.

For Oromo parents, many of whom have endured displacement, exile, and the challenges of rebuilding their lives in a new land, this recognition is deeply meaningful. It is a reminder that their efforts have not been in vain—that their children see them, honour them, and will continue the traditions they have passed down.


Looking Forward: Continuing the Legacy

While the evening was a celebration, it was also a call to action. It reminded the younger generation of their responsibility to carry forward the culture, language, and values of their parents. It encouraged them to build bridges between generations, to preserve the stories of their ancestors, and to ensure that the sacrifices of the past are never forgotten.

As the night came to a close, the sense of gratitude and unity lingered in the air. The words of Aisha resonated deeply:

“Very proud of you all.”


Conclusion: A Night to Remember

The celebration of Oromo parents was more than an event—it was a testament to the resilience of a people, the love of a community, and the enduring power of gratitude. It was a night of laughter, tears, and reflection—a night that honoured the past while inspiring the future.

To the organising committee, to ShaboMedia Oromiya, to the parents, and to the community: thank you. Your efforts created a memory that will last a lifetime, a memory that will be passed down through generations.

“Galatoomaa haadhaa Abbaa kiyya…”
“Thank you, my mother and father…”


May the legacy of Oromo parents continue to inspire and guide the community for generations to come.